


A Dishonest Man You Can Always Trust

by belovedschild



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Female Character of Color, Historical Fantasy, Historical References, Mental Instability, Original Character(s), Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 12:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedschild/pseuds/belovedschild
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow is up to shenanigans again, this time looking for the treasure of Mentezuma. In his search for a ship and a crew he runs across an old friend.





	

"Me, I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly, it's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly stupid."  
— Captain Jack Sparrow

 

Tortuga

The bar is dark and and a haze of smoke drifts over everything. The intermittent light from the torches hanging randomly throughout cast an ever more dangerous hue on the atmosphere. The bar wench serving the back half of the busy place is a tall and buxom woman. Either herself or the blood in her veins hailing from Greece or somewhere close. Jet black hair, dark eyes, beautiful olive toned skin. Her curves press against the thin cloth of her revealing top and long skirts, straining to be let out. She would be so much more beautiful without the grime caked to her skin and the hollowness to her eyes. She was happy once, all that was left now was a keen instinct for survival and nothing more. She brings another round of the piss that passes for beer in this hole to the dark form in the corner. It is a small feminine hand that takes the rough wooden mug. Feminine in shape but covered with the scars and callouses of any working man of the sea. If not more for having to work harder on account of her gender. The fire plays wildly in her red hair as she leans forward on her elbows, taking a swig of the brew. The light seems to dance there, shifting colours ranging from almost blood red to spun gold. Captain Jack Sparrow, never one to miss a prize feminine creature, stops his current conversation abruptly.

"Excuse me mate..." he mutters distractedly, mumbling something else unintelligibly as he bee lines for that fiery red hair.

Being the cocky bastard that he is Jack saunters up to the table and smiles his most charismatic smile. Without waiting for an invitation he seats himself unceremoniously in the only other chair at the tiny table. Quite certain already of his victory he grasps her free hand and kisses it delicately, shooting a look that would melt the hearts of most other women. This woman, better known as Jacquotte Delahaye, merely snorts and smiles derisively at him. Sparrow is only phased momentarily by her lack of interest, assuming that it's merely the beer and the dark of the room slowing her response.

" 'ello love..."

His voice is low and thick with promises of the most wondrous pleasure. Jack smiles that charming smile again, still holding her hand. He begins to caress the delicate bones and strong sinews. His intuition speaks loudly all of a sudden and he squints and takes a rather obvious closer look at the maid he's sitting across from. That hair, pale skin warmed by soft brown undertones, thanks to her French father and Haitian mother. Striking green eyes that she shared with her brother and mother. He knows this face, but from where? His gaze roams farther down, over the off white linen of her shirt and the black lacing of her bodice. Jack leans in gazing almost stupidly at her beautiful form. The firelight flickers softly over her ample cleavage. It is this that triggers his memory. He pulls back suddenly, dropping her hand as if it was a hot coal and kicking his chair back from the table a bit. A comical look of confusion and almost fear ripples across his face as his hands flutter up to his chest. He curls his fingers in almost protectively and fidgets nervously.

"Uhm...pardon me fer asking but...aren't you supposed to be dead?....or are you," He swallows hard and a look of apprehension and disgust forms on his handsome face. "...undead?"

After the Isla de Muerta, Jack had just about enough of the un-dead, not to mention that cursed un-dead monkey. These thoughts show plainly on his face as he ponders the current situation. Jacquotte's laugh is full and melodic. She leans forward, her already emphasized breasts making themselves all that more prominent as she reaches out again for his hand. Jack makes a strangled noise in his throat and and pulls back, much the way most women would shy from a spider or a rat. His eyes though seem glued to those curving mounds trapped beneath all that clothing and his jaw is a little slack. Again that musical laugh.

"Now, Now Jack! or Captain Jack Sparrow, I should say."

She winks at him, full of her own feminine version of Jack's quirky charm.

"You've never been one to shy from the touch of a woman. Especially me!"

Her voice is warm and silky. Tinged with a dose of French and Creole.

"That's why they call me "Back From the Dead Red" these days Jack. Maybe I'll teach you the trick sometime."

Jacquotte wasn't about to let him know that the way she had cheated death was by pretending to be a man for the last few years. If she hadn't had been found out a few months back she still would have been wearing that fake beard. If ever Captain Jack Sparrow had a Nemesis she was it. Not so much in the violent, fight to the death sort of way. Although he would not be surprised if they ever did have a duel to the death. This woman sitting before him was the one woman Jack had never been able to charm into bed. The one woman who, with perfect confidence, refused his advances most successfully. Not only that but she was the one woman he knew he could not refuse. She was the only one who had turned the tables on him, it had been he who had almost grovelled before her. This knowledge twinkled in her eyes. The implications of what this would do to his reputation were enormous. He relaxed only slightly and moved his chair back into the table. The serving girl walked by with a tray full of drinks. Jack absently reached up and snatched the bottle of rum as she moved quickly by. He leans in, trying his best to maintain some semblance of calm and charisma. He has never quite been able to recapture it completely. After The Locker, that little tinge of hysterical madness had never quite left his eyes. He takes a long swig of the rum before placing the bottle on the table, but still clutched in his hand. He smiles, cat like, now feeling that he has regained most of his composure. Ah, what would he do without rum! Jacquotte rests her chin on one small hand and stares deeply into his beautiful eyes. Old memories tug almost painfully at her heart and she quickly shuts them away. Not wanting to relive them. What she does recall is that you can't trust Captain Jack Sparrow, he's far too honest. Much more honest than he will ever admit or believe. Besides that he's mainly a rotten, no good, pirate. It was this strange combination of sin and grace that had always attracted her to him. Unbeknownst to Jack he was the one man who had ever won her over. The one to own her heart. She would probably die before ever telling him this. A small group of young pirates comes stumbling through the door, letting a draft of fresh night air in. A cloud of the stale inside air goes rolling out into the warm tropical night. With the in draft she catches a whiff of Jack's own personal perfume. She shakes her head and laughs, fanning a hand in front of her nose.

"I see you're still a master of personal hygiene."

He smiles uncertainly at her, not quite sure what that last word was. From the fanning gesture though he pretty much gathers the gist of the sentence. He lifts an arm and takes a quick sniff. A look of surprise and slow disgust crosses his face.

"Well, you know how it is love! Out at sea for months at a time and all..."

His sentence trails off almost pathetically. Jacquotte smiles meanly but feels a twinge of guilt. She never did like making him feel bad...most of the time. It was the best way to keep him back though, keep him at a safe distance.

"Enough idle chit chat though dear, what are you doing here? Surely it's obvious that most of the people on this island want to kill you."

A look of bright excitement lightens his features. Doesn't seem phased at all by the fact that most want him dead. He leans in very close and pure greed floods his eyes and features.

" I am in need of a crew....and a ship..."

"A ship? AGAIN Jack? What happened to the last one?"

Dark memories of the Pearl being sucked down into the depths of the sea flicker across his memory. He pushes them away quickly and shrugs as if to say, "What can ya do?". He had never expected to see her again, seeming as how she was supposed to be dead. He was never one to give up a great, if not beautiful, opportunity however when it was staring him in the face.

"Yes...a ship...do you still have the Ashtoreth?"

This was one ship he knew was big enough and seaworthy enough to make the voyage.

"Oh, you want MY ship! Like that's very likely! The last time I let you sail my ship it wound up at the bottom of the Sea! I still miss that ship! Why would you need mine anyways? What sort of mad plan have the cooked up this time?"

She looks angrily at him, not surprised but still annoyed by his arrogance. He may be mad but every now and again he has moments of genius. She had been a party to a few that had kept her wealthy for years without having to pirate. Jack leans in, his face mere inches from hers and whispers in his most conspiratorial voice.

"Have you ever heard of Montezuma?"

Jacquotte's eyes widen with surprise. She knows the legend of Montezuma. When the Spanish invaded Aztec country it was said that Montezuma hid unimaginable amounts of gold in the Temples, now lost in the jungles. Greed and desire are the first emotions to race across her face. Jack smiles lecherously. Then caution and doubt are added to the mix and his smiles fades slightly.

"Yes, yes I have...but I have also heard of his curse."

"Now what's life without risks, eh Red?"

She leans back and crosses her strong arms across her chest, eyeing him uncertainly. Yes there was talk of a curse but it was just talk. If all the rest of the talk was true though, there was enough gold there to keep her and at least five generations of her family well fed and secure. Her thoughts roam to her mother and brother for a moment. Back home in Haiti, waiting for her to come back. After their father's death they had lost the farm and all their wealth to greedy aristocracy. That's why she had become a pirate in the first place. So she would not watch her poor challenged brother starve or be put in an institution. Especially since that institution would probably be in France or England. Jack can see the indecision on her face and hopes to be able to push just hard enough so that she sides with him. He knows better than to try to make her do things. If he told her it was in her best interest she would refuse to do it just out of spite.

"Tell you what sweetheart, I'll even go halfers on the supplies for the journey!"

He always knew how to appeal to her frugal side. He watches her expectantly, almost breathlessly. His offer had pretty much sealed the deal with her. Much to her own horror she makes up her mind to undertake this adventure. She really does know better than to make any sort of deal with Jack. This was on offer that was too good to refuse. With a sigh of resignation she holds out her right hand for a shake. A thick leather gauntlet covers her wrist and forearm and he grips her hand firmly. She grips his and bites back the small gasp trying to betray her. Seems he still sent that fire through her veins, even if it was just hands touching. She hides it well, or he pretends not to notice. Both their voices are a little rough and lost as they mutter their agreement.

"Deal!"

Their hands linger on the shake and both seem lost in old memories. Jacquotte really begins to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. With a mischievous and heated glance he pulls her hand once again to his lips. The kiss is different this time. He seems to savour the flesh beneath his lips, planting soft slow pecks on her slightly swollen knuckles. The small stream of fire racing up her arm turns into an inferno and now she does gasp softly. He shouldn't have heard it over the din of the drunken people all around them but he does. His eyes shoot up to hers suddenly and genuine shock animates his face. She pulls her hand back swiftly, almost angrily, and stands suddenly, knocking her small stool over. Jack continues to stare at her, almost dumbfounded. A look of triumph though is starting to seep into his expressive eyes. She snorts and downs what is left in her mug, dropping a few coins on the woman's tray as she quickly sweeps in to grab the empty vessel. Red wipes her mouth with the back of one gauntleted hand and glared heatedly at him. Jack hides the fact that he can see the hint of fear there also.

"Go get yourself a bath Jack and come and find me. Maybe then I'll actually let you ride on the ship instead of strapped to the figurehead."

Jack smiles at her sarcastically and yells after her as she storms away.

"And how am I supposed to find you love?"

"You'll know the ship Jack, just come down to the docks, it's hard to miss!"

She snaps this back at him without even looking. He smiles to himself, extremely pleased. He polishes off the rest of the rum in the bottle in one go and orders another in celebration. Leaning back in the stool he grins happily to himself. Visions of endless rooms of gold filling his head and of her fiery red curls flowing through his fingers.


End file.
